Never Ending Story
by Saskya-Amant
Summary: Some stories scream to be told, to be heard. But some stories lay hidden locked deep inside, scared to come out. These stories were never meant to be told, never meant to be shared. These stories were meant to be felt. These stories were meant to be lived
1. Fifty Thousand Tears

_It's finally finished._

_Am I finally free? I have this nagging sense that I should be celebrating, rejoicing in triumph. But my heart is a deflated balloon in my chest. No one knows what happened, no one will believe me, no one will cry with me. A hollow victory. I should be smiling, but to see the facade so clearly on my face would destroy the last shred of strength I have left. _

_Fifty thousand tears I have cried, their tracks scaring my cheeks, a constant reminder of where I have been and for what... nothing. After all this time and nothing have changed. Nothing but me. I think it is this that frightens me the most, having finally escaped my cage, have just put myself into another?_

_Can I go back to who I was?_

_Knowing and seeing what I have?_

_Learning what I have leaned?_

_Will anyone notice the change in me?_

_Will it be obvious in my face?_

_Probably not._

_To feel so old, yet remain the same, gives one a great sense of foreboding. I am so scared for the future. After so long, I never thought I would have one. Who am I to become? What makes me? The fundamentals of my life have be twisted and manipulated, will I ever be able to continue on the path I had originally begun? Dear Merlin, I hope so. Will they think it strange for me to..._

_My thoughts keep getting lost. The maze I constructed within my mind is losing integrity, I no longer know where each turn will lead, nor what lies around each bend. I am running around in the dark. My never ending maze is growing wild, it's creature turning savage. Nothing is as clear as it once was. The once mystical beings that live within the green walls, used to stun and awe me. Now they cause me to feel trepidation and fear. Around every turn, every bend I encounter something more twisted and uncomphrehendable them before. My thoughts.... they confuse me, nothing seems to fit, when I see what is meant to be a memory que I am at a lost as to what it is meant to connect to. I have all these thoughts, all these memories but I don't understand any of it. Will I ever get the answers back? _

_Only time will tell.... Time?_

_Minutes. Hours. Days. Months. Years. They have all pasted me by in a day and it all means nothing. It's as though I fell asleep, only to wake from an impossible dream. For it can only be impossible, can't it? Sometimes I fear I made it up, that my imagination was playing a horrible trick. But then I see... right before me so clear, so vivid. I can smell, I can touch, I can taste it. I feel it all again, as I did for all that time and I know with every fiber of my fragile being that a feeling such as that can be no trick. An imagination can not conjure up such jagged emotions, it plays with your mind, not your heart. Oh Merlin, I pray down on my knees that, that is true. That there is truth in my reason, for if there is not I fear I know nothing and everything I have believed in for so long has all been a lie._

_I realise my thoughts make no sense, but I can find no other way to explain it so that it may come out logical, reasonable, believable. After time, I think I have grown accustomed to explaining things in a round about way so that nothing is truly revealed. A little trick I learned from someone. It's easier to get the information when the person opposite you is not asking unnecessary questions. After a while, there is no question you have not heard and not answered a thousand times before. You know every outcome, every turn of events. There is no point. Ironic as it may seem, you simply do not have time for it._

_Ah time, there it is mentioned again._

_I want to believe that the thing that carries me through is not just the crazy delusions of an old mind. I don't want the only thing I gained for this whole torment to be a lie._

_I don't want to look back and realise ....  
_

- - - N . E . S - - -

There it was again, he could feel it in his every muscle, that piercing heat on his skin. Like every time before he scanned the hall, searching for the source. But in a sea of eyes, none caught his. He could never find it no matter how long he searched, but for the last month he felt it always, watching him and his every move. It was unsettling, he had been taught to be wary of one's enemies, so he was wary but he was also intrigued. Who was this invisible foe? How were they evading him? Why were they watching him? What did they want? He wanted the answers, but deep down he knew it was not for the obvious reasons. He was curious. It maybe his one fault, though not many knew it he could not hide it from himself. Those concealed eyes drew something out of him, something that was filled with questions thirsty for answers.

Bowing his head, his hands resting in his hair, he closed his eyes. Simply feeling. It never wavered. He found himself laughing to himself at how comforting it felt to have someone always keeping watch over him. Constantly tuned into his every action, his every movement. His guardian angel. Oh how he wished to meet this creature. To look into those gazing eyes and see the soul that lay within them.

Crystal blue orbs glowed in the darkness before him. Sparkling with hints of light, reflecting the hidden source like a river, flowing freely in peace with its surroundings. It didn't seem possible, but it was beautiful and he couldn't help but smile. Could it be possible for these eyes to be real? Was his imagination going wild? Where had they come from? They were so vivid, as though he had seen them a thousand times over. He couldn't have dreamed them up, could he? How could his mind create such detail, such imagery from nothing?

A thunderclap echoed within the hall, violently wrenching him from his black abyss. The loud talk of everyone in the hall filled his ears, the hot air weighed down on his skin, the firey light from the candles met his eyes. All of this was real, he could sense that with everything inside of him, but in his mind those blue eyes seemed more real then all of it.

With a sigh, he gathered his bag, got to his feet, gave one last look around the hall, shook his head in resignation and simply left it all behind.


	2. The Howling

_He never see's me, it's as though I am only a reflection. You may catch a glimpse of me, but then doubt you ever saw me in the corner of your eye. It makes me wonder, has ever seen me? These stormy clouds of doubt continue to hover over me these days, constantly showering me in pains and remorse. I know I have no reason to doubt... I am person, I am a tangible being. I can be smelt, touched, seen._

_Can't I?_

_Then why? Why, do I find myself asking, did no one notice? For so long not one person noticed, we both felt torn between loss and anger, but now it seems more profound alone. Before I had someone else to be alone with. Now I am simply alone._

_Even he can see me no longer..._

_Would it change anything if he knew?_

_Again I am filled with doubt. But doubt of a different kind. I don't doubt him, it would be inevitable to change things if he knew, if he believed. But that would mean I would have to say everything I have locked away, so deep within me, would have to be brought forward. I would have to expose everything I treasure, my secrets would be known and shared and examined. No, I don't doubt him, I doubt myself...._

_For how do you explain something that never happened?_

- - - N . E . S - - -

He felt so tired, day after day of the same thing. Nothing ever changing, nothing ever evolving. The same routine over and over. He could shut his brain off and his body would know what to do through habit because that was what his life had become. A habit. It was bothersome in the least. Though while he sat there in the Great Hall, he was glad one thing never changed. This thought worried him, as he was concerned he was growing obsessed with the mystery heat that always found him once he stepped out into a crowd of peers. He never felt it when he was alone, which only lead him to further believe that it was a someone, not a something, that was his Guardian.

Every morning, he would find himself rushing his morning rituals, to the point where what had taken him nearly thirty minutes now only took ten. He would hurry to the Hall, just to feel that blaring heat on his skin once more. It terrified him. Not who it was or even what they wanted? But what they were doing to him. It was as though he couldn't breath until he felt their gaze prickle across his back. He wasn't alive until their eyes were upon him. He couldn't feel anything until he could feel them.

Rubbing his eyes, he pushed his fingers down, feeling his eyes sink back slightly from the pressure. Slowly his muscles started to relax, loosening all the mornings built up tension. They were here. He could feel them. Everything was normal.

His brain kept flashing the word 'normal' over and over, his father's voice hissing it in his ear in a constant loop. It was as though the word was honey on his tongue, it was smooth and velvety, but if he moved his tongue just an inch in the wrong direction it would become stuck and he couldn't get it free.

What was normal?

"Malfoy?"

He felt his body flex, restraining the natural urge to flinch at the sudden intrusion into his thoughts. It had taken him years of practice to hide his reactions, but he always felt his stomach drop waiting for the time when he could no longer restrain it and he would be bare in front of everyone. All the fear his father had instilled in him, was ever present. You don't let your guard down, that's when you will feel real pain for the first time.

Opening his eyes, he met the questioning gaze of his housemates.

"Malfoy, your elbow is in your breakfast, you may like to remove it. But it's just a suggestion," disgust dripped from the voice.

Turning his head, he faced the source, "Thanks Jean, I didn't even notice, " he hissed, raising his eyebrow in silent challenge.

Jean Zabini simply shrugged, tossing his head to the side. Malfoy knew he didn't really care where his elbow was, but it was all about position and prospective. Zabini had always been second best to Malfoy, ever since they started school. If he ever wanted to gain control this was his last year to try, so try he would. Malfoy didn't hold it against him, he would of done the same thing in his position.

Everyone kept eying him, it was unusual for a Malfoy to be so distracted around others. If at all. He could see everything the were thinking, written so clearly across their faces. It was pathetic that they held themselves in such high distinction as Slytherin Pure-Bloods but they couldn't even mask their million questions.

"Scorpius, are you alright?" Jean's sister, Sacha whispered, her eyes never leaving his face as she studied it for any sign that something was amiss. But she would never find anything.

The 'Scorpius Malfoy' mask was firmly back in place, how it had slipped in the first place was beyond him though. He nodded his slighted response, before turning away from her peering inquiring. Darius Nott on Scorpius' other side sat quietly, with no tell that he was doing anything other then reading the newspaper that lay in front of him. But Scorpius saw it if only briefly, as it only took one glance from Darius as he slowly took a sip of his coffee. That one glance told Scorpius that he knew something serious was going on and that he expected to be told in more private circumstances. Scorpius' father always said that Darius was so much like his father, Theodore, quiet and introverted. But Mr. Malfoy as said that he would always trust Theodore, and would never cross him. It took great respect for Scorpius' father to hold someone in that regard and he had been awed by the man when he had met him for the first time when he had only been eight , which had been ten years ago.

It had also been ten years ago that Scorpius and Darius had first met, back then Darius' silent assumption would of infuriated him. But as time had passed between them, Scorpius had grown to think of Darius as the brother he never had. Yes, Darius was almost a clone of his father, quiet and introverted, clever and a killer. But just like his father, Scorpius knew that Darius was someone he could trust with his secrets, with his life and he would not be left with a shoulder. They were brothers in every sense of the word. They trusted one another and it was more then most Pure-Bloods Slytherin could say about their parents.

A discreet nod of his head gave Nott all that needed to be said at the present time. Darius continued to read the Prophet as though he had seen nothing. Scorpius smirked, flicking his wand removing the oatmeal from his sleeve. His sharp eyes daring anyone to comment about anything else on the matter. No-one did, but from the corner of his eye he saw Jean smirk. Scorpius couldn't help but widen his own smirk, such a typical Slytherin. The war had been over for nearly two decades, but trust the Pure-Bloods to believe nothing had actually changed. And Scorpius guessed it hadn't. Not really, not within their own circles.

To the public eye they had completely reformed. They were now valued members of society. But within their selected communities, they were still the same self-righteous and pompous group they had always been. Still concerned with status, power and blood. Scorpius couldn't really say much, or complain about their behaviour. He didn't believe highly in that way of thinking, only because he simply didn't care what everyone else did with their life. As long as they left him alone or did what he wanted he was fine to let them carry on in their pitiful existence. Scorpius had never gone wanting and he was accustomed to this way of living. He liked getting what he wanted and in a timely fashion. It made life simple, easy, relaxing.

But sometimes, when he was alone in his room, he sometimes wished, dreamed, things were just a little different. Different enough that his father would feel it appropriate to show his son some glimpse of his feelings toward him. To show him some love that wasn't material. He wished things were different enough that he could talk to people from other houses and not have his actions reported back to his parents, by his so called friends. It was all just an ideal wish, that passed as quickly as it came but he knew it lay somewhere within him and it made him hope, that maybe one day it could be possible.

But he was still a Malfoy though and with that came... a million other things.

- - - N . E . S - - -

The halls were deserted, but for two Slytherin housemates. Darius and Scorpius slowly walked down the lengthy halls, their sleeves rolled up against the heat, their hair slick with sweat, their shirts untucked. They looked everything that a Slytherin must not; messy, disorganised, unkept. But for once these two Slytherins couldn't care less. No one else was around, they were free to be... free. Themselves. For just one moment.

Neither of them talked, nor looked at the other. Both od the exhausted from Quidditch Practice. Mud was cracking on their boots, pieces trailing behind them with every step they took. Passing by another empty corridor, Scorpius gazed down it. For a moment he thought he saw someone turn down the hall, he blinked against the darkness, but when his eyes refocus he nothing there. His brow gathered he faced the direction in which he feet were leading him. The time he felt Darius' eyes on him.

But when he looked at his friend, Darius was closely studying his nail beds nonchalantly. Scorpius had to smirk when a few moments later, he heard the evenly toned, "well?" slip from between his tight-lipped companions mouth.

"Well what?" he replied.

"Well," Darius paused for effect, always the one for dramatic effect, "what was with this s'morning?"

Scorpius heard all the questions Darius wasn't asking, with that one general and open ended question he had managed to ask about ten separate things. What was bothering you? Is it still bothering you? Why haven't I heard about it sooner? Should I be concerned? Does it involve anyone I know? Why are you letting others ee you in this state? How can I help? And countless more. 'Ah,' Scorpius thought, 'if only I knew my father this well, life would be... simpler.'

"I don't really know, I was eating and then Zabini calling my name. I got lost in my thoughts for a moment. It won't happen again," Scorpius answered, keeping certain things concealed.

"Hmm," Darius nodded slightly, knowing that there was things not being told, but it was not in his way to pry... to deeply, "so that's all it was?"

When Scorpius didn't respond, he continued, "If you don't wish to include me then I can accept that, but I feel obligated to say this one thing," Darius looked Scorpius straight in the eye for moment before continuing, "I have never, in the ten years that I have known you, seen you get so lost in your thoughts like that. Your eyes were glazed Scorpius, if you hadn't snapped out of it so quickly I would of thought it had been a hex. You have never behaved like that before, at least not in my company. I only say this because if it happens to again, I don't believe Zabini will let the opportunity slide quite so gently as he did this s'morning. You know how he is, so be on your guard," Darius went back to study his nails, his brow gathered as he thought over something, then smoothed out in conclusion, lifting his head he went on, "Like I said before if you don't wish to include me in whatever it was that happened this s'morning I can accept that, but just know I know there is more to it then you are letting on and... I have this feeling that there is more to it then even you know."

The statement left Scorpius on edge. Yes, there was more to it but he wasn't sure he wanted to share it with anyone yet. There was a this little twinge in his skull that told him that if he said anything, his "Guardian Angel" would disappear or that it would all be revealed as some delusion his mind made up. But what did Darius mean by saying 'there was more to it then even he knew'?

Darius stopped his steady pace, Scorpius stopping beside him. He looked at Scorpius for a brief moment, studying his face as their housemates had done that morning. Though he said nothing, he just gave a sigh then turned back down the hall. For now, Darius would wait. He would give Scorpius time to collect his thoughts and censor were need be, but still giving Darius the information he wanted. They were Slytherin after all.

Scorpius was about to follow his friend, when like a searing hot poker the heat was on his back again. Spinning on his heels, he scanned the hall violently. Trying to see behind every statue, trying to see around every corner, trying to peer into every shadow. But there was nothing, yet he still felt the heat against his skin. He quickly ran the few steps need, grabbed Darius by the sleeve and spun him around. Darius was about to protest against the assault until he saw Scorpius' face.

"There is someone in the hall," He whispered.

Like a cat, Darius' eyes flew along the corridor talking everything in, seeing things Scorpius couldn't see. He knew why, but Darius' sense had always seemed heighten for some reason. He was always the first to see something, hear something, smell and feel something. If Darius said he heard something he heard something, even if you couldn't trust his character even his most hated enemies trusted his senses.

"Are you sure?" he questioned.

"Yes," Scorpius hissed, his eyes still straining in the faint torchlight.

They were good if even Darius couldn't find them, it almost made Scorpius wonder if it was all in his head, but he felt the heat more intense then ever. They were here, hidden, but here and they were bloody good at staying hidden.

"How do you know someone is here?" Darius whispered back, his tone sharp as a result of being hissed at. Darius' tone almost made Scorpius laugh, such indignation.

Scorpius contemplated for a second then replied, "I can feel their gaze, it's this burning heat on my skin. I... I have felt it for the past month now, always when I am in a crowd of people. But never when I am alone, or in such an empty corridor like this," Scorpius explained, his eyes still scanning, but his body was very aware of Darius and what his reaction would be.

Darius' eyebrow twitched slightly with instant understanding, so quick at joining the dots. It took only a moment and he knew that it was the same thing that had happened this s'morning. That was why Scorpius was on edge so much. Slowly Darius drew his wand, he was about to level it when Scorpius' hand flung it down.

"No," he gasped, "they're not going to hurt us."

Darius' brow gathered once more, "How do you know?"

"I don't know, I just feel it. They don't mean me any harm."

Darius just shook his head, "That's not what I meant, how you do you know it's a they, not an it?"

Scorpius turned to face his friend, "I just know," he snapped again.

"You just know, " Darius echoed, his voice icy, "I will not lower my wand and render myself defenseless, when you have no substantial proof that..."

"Darius, please!" Scorpius scolded, "It's me, when have you ever known me to be lax when caution is involved? Never, trust me when I saw they mean us no harm."

Before Darius could reply, a sound so quiet they almost missed it, bounced of the stone walls. A sneeze. A feminine sneeze. It was muffled by a hand but someone in the hall had sneezed. Darius' head snapped in the direction it came from, pointing he mouthed the words 'it's a girl,' as he made his way over to the statue. With a gentle hand, Scorpius pulled Darius back until he was in front. Slowly stepping forward, Scorpius pulled his wand free and cast a silent Lumos.

Light glowed around him, the shadow of the statue still hiding his Angel. He could sense Darius behind him ready to pounce. But that was it, if Scorpius wasn't used to sensing his friends eerie aura he never would of known he was even in the hall. He made no noise, made no signal of movement. Perfect really, he was just like his Angel a ghost and what better way to catch a ghost but with another.

With one last breath, Scorpius flung his wand around the statue only to see nothing but the stone floor. Leaning against the cold wall, Scorpius let his mind wonder, Darius wouldn't take advantage he knew that. What had just happened? Who had been here? Who was this girl? This Angel. And who did they escape? Minutes ticked by and his thoughts still remained unclear.

"Scorpius," that one word brought him back again.

Darius stood in front of him, his hand out stretched, a silver pendent resting in his palm. Scorpius leaned forward, picking the charm up with his index finger and thumb as though the object were cursed.

"It can't be?" he whispered.

"It's a very good replica, if it isn't," Darius commented.

Scorpius met his eyes, they were filled with a familiar curiosity. The same curiosity he himself had felt for a month now. Who were they dealing with? He could see the intrigue in Darius' eyes, now that he knew he wouldn't let up until he discovered, who this girl was. Scorpius wasn't sure if he was glad about this or not. Looking down at his shirt, he pulled a silver chain from around his neck out from beneath his quidditch robes. Hanging loosely at the end was an exact copy of the pendent; an eternal knot with a dragon encasing the edges with it's body.

"It's not possible," Scorpius breathed.

The pendent was custom made, it was goblin made. A present from his father. The only present he had ever received that had not be chosen by his mother or something he had asked for. His father had given it to him when he had been named Slytherin Seeker in his third year. The pride in his father's eyes, when he had told him and made him smile for the rest of the day. Scorpius looked to his friend, but Darius just shrugged, at Scorpius' questioning glance. Gathering his breath, he undid the clasp and slide the duplicate beside it's clone.

Who ever had been here would most likely be back for the missing charm. It didn't hold the same sentimental value as it did for Scorpius, but he was certain they would want it back. It was an expensive piece of jewelry, too expensive for most of the school families to afford.

They would be back, for whatever reason. Scorpius told himself and he would be waiting.


	3. Lost, Lies and Lovers

_I lost it, after all this time carrying it with me... keeping it close to my breast and now with it gone, my heart feels cold. Like it was my barrier against the chill and without it I am without protection. One moment of weakness, I saw just a glimpse but it was all it took. By instinct, my feet lead me towards him. I couldn't let him pass. I couldn't be strong enough. Look what it has cost me._

_What worries me more then losing the charm, is that he knew. He knew immediately that I was there. It was as though I was back and he had returned to me... he could always tell when I was looking, when I couldn't peel my eyes off him. He always knew. But it's not him. I have to remind myself that. It's not him. But how did he know? The moment I dared open my eyes to the sight of him, there he stood looking back. He didn't see me, but if I took but one step forward he would have._

_He taught me better then that. It had been too close. I need to restrain myself, but the temptation is just too strong. I dream of ghost eyes and his are clones of the ones I knew. Would things be different if he knew, would I see my eyes one more time.... He would never understand, he needs more time. I need more time. Ironic. I need more time. I never believed I would ever say that, ever think that, but there it is. I need more time._

_I have been sitting here for hours now, trying to think of a way to get it back. To get the charm back to where it belongs. With me. I will get it back, I have to. It's my little piece. My reminder. My anchor to what is real. I woke up this morning and it all felt like a dream, just like every other day. A fog clouding every detail, in a haze. So you are never really sure if what you are seeing is true. And like ever morning I needed proof to show myself, to prove to myself that it had happened, that it had all been real. I find myself repeating that same mantra over and over. Writing the same words over and over. Praying that the more times I use them the more possible they will become.... I am not sure it is working._

_How many times do I need to tell myself that it happened? Every day? Every hour? Every minute? Every second? Maybe. Maybe after that it will feel like I am speaking some truth and not the constant lies that seem to be flowly from my mouth these days. They seem to have a life of their own. I open my mouth and the words just say anything that comes... and I am left with nothing, nothing real to associate this life for the other. It's not helping. Maybe if I just keep telling myself what I believe is truth things might change. Maybe._

_I had a dream last night. Dream? No, wrong word, I remembered a memory while I was sleeping. Is that a dream? Or is that a memory? I don't know, I should go to the library and find out. Clarification, to clear my thoughts, because that's what I need more proof that it wasn't all a dream._

_The memory was of something I had almost forgotten. It seemed so mundane at the time, I didn' t think there was anything to remember but while my mind was sleeping, my heart was free to watch. Free to see what really happened. For now in this new light in which I am forced to see things in, it means nearly everything._

**" The moon streamed through the stained glass window, the beams of light dancing with the dust fairies that hung in the air. The stone walls reflecting it in between the only two creatures in the corridor. A boy and a girl, sitting in a small alcove that encased the window. They sat there staring out into the inky night sky. They were completely alone. Not even the night disturbed them, not an animal could be heard. Not a creak of an aging door. Not the groan of a stiff statues. Nothing.**

**They embraced their time alone, tired of overused conversations with everyone they knew. The same topics, the same discussions, the same responses, the same conclusions. Nothing new. They were barely whispering, but in the hush of the night, their words were clear and concise. The boy had his head in his lap, his long pale hands tapping the cobbled floor, completely unaware of the petite girl by his side. She was staring intently at his figure, taking in his every movement. It appeared as though she was study him, memorizing his every characteristic. Every few moments her own body shook with trepidation for when he would look her way again, for his eyes would peer into her soul once more.**

**His hair hung down his back in layers of gold. The girl breathed deep, filling her senses with his sweet scent. Her nose wrinkled slightly, it was too sweet. But she seemed to creep closer to him with every passing second. The more she could smell him, the more it meant he was near. The more it meant he was there with her.**

**The girl's fingers were playing lazily with a thread from her sweater, when the boys eyes opened. It seemed as though all the answers lay within them, no matter what the girl would ask him, he would find the answer. For her he would find them. It was the look of love. He could not escape it, he could not hide from it, he could not mask it. So he simply let it be apart of who he was, who he had become. A soft smile was on his lips, as he looked upon her.**

**The quiet was broken as his voice filled the hall once more, " I remember when the snow would turn to rain, as it stuck to the window," he said, tracing his finger along the stained pattern on the windows surface, "when I was young, I used to believed the heavens were crying every time the skies opened up and the tiny droplets fell. I would always run out and dance among the crystals, hoping that it just might cheer them up. It sounds rather depressing, doesn't it."**

**The boy turned his eyes downcast, staring at his feet, his face weary. Without thinking the girl reached out and gently clasped the boys chin, pulling his gaze back to hers.**

**"No, it sounds beautiful," she whispered, his cool breath bathing her skin.**

**The boy's hand came up and cupped hers, drawing them down into his lap, "I want you to see the rain again," he voice was like a prayer, a quiet plea to who was ever listening to help them, "I want you to dance in the rain, I want to watch that. I want to see the smile on your face as the rain cleanses you of everything that has happened."**

**The girl smiled weakly, brushing her thumb against the back of his hand, "You will one day," she paused, staring into his eyes, "it hasn't all been bad."**

**The boy just smiled back, "maybe."**

**Grabbing his other hand, the girl pulled him close and whispered a promise into his hair, into his skin, into his being. She promised him, that he would see her dance in the rain, that he would see her dance in the rain with tears streaming down her face. She promised him that she would dance with him in the rain. One day. She promised.**

**The boy simply nodded. "**

_I should of know then, that something was wrong. We never made promises. It was a rule. His rule. Don't make promises, you don't know if you can keep. I broke a rule and he said nothing. So wrapped up in my own worries, I didn't even notice. If I had would things have turned out differently? Could I have stopped it? Could I have stopped him? Would it have been better with him, simply remembering but never experiencing anything new. Then here, where everyday something new begins. I don't know if I could choose. He must have believed here was better or her never would have done what he did._

_Somewhere deep within my heart, I know what he did, he did for me. He set me free. He gave me the key that had been lost years before. I know all this, but in those dark moments when I am all alone once more with only my thoughts for company. I begin to think he was just looking for his own way out, his own escape. He wanted to be free himself. He had been caged for so long and I wasn't enough, he needed something new. Had I become just like everything else? Never changing, never growing, never anything new? If I ever found out that these thoughts were true, I don't think I would blame him. I could never blame him. For who would want to be stuck for eternity with that? A constant reminder of everything that went wrong._

_My mind can't fathom that it was only a little over a month ago that he had sat in front of me, telling me of the rain. It feels like only yesterday I had him in my arms, promising him things that could never happen. And yet it feels as though it was a life time ago that I had him in my arms, promising to dance with him in the rain._

_I have yet to see the rain, but I won't break my promise. I will dance with him in rain._

_One day._

_**- - - N . E . S - - -  
**_

"Scorpius, you can't sit here all night, they won't be back," Darius drawled, sick of spending time with his other housemates, Harper and Davis, "You have been here all day, you can't skip anymore classes."

Scorpius simply glared, "Tell the professors I'm sick, like you did today."

"Yeah, you're sick but you haven't gone to Madame Pomfrey for the quick fix potion?" Darius snorted, "Even the professors know you hate being sick, You complain enough about it, when you really are sick."

Darius just received a death glare and he could of sworn he heard a mumbled, "I don't complain that much," but he didn't say anything. He understood why Scorpius refused to move. But if who ever it had been the night before hadn't returned for the pendent by now, he doubted they would later on.

"I had an idea, " Darius announced, Scorpius looked up from his feet, his eyebrow raised in inquiry, "but I need to borrow the replica charm that we found last night."

Scorpius hesitated for a moment, then reached behind his hair and unclasped the chain. Getting to his feet, he placed the charm firmly in Darius' out stretched hand.

"Don't loose it. I want it back tomorrow morning," and with that he turned and headed back toward the Slytherin Dungeons.

Darius sighed heavily, closing his fist around the silver pendent, hopefully this idea worked. Scorpius' mood since last night had been nothing nearly short of violent. He snapped and hissed at anyone who got in his way, or even his eyesight. This girl was really getting to him. That was why Darius was determined to discover who she was and find out why she was doing this to his friend. With this thought swirling around in his brain, Darius headed for the library. Just as he was rounding the corner, Sacha was upon him.

"Hey Nott, have you seen Scorpius today?" she asked, flipping her hair around her shoulder.

Darius had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. How did Scorpius put up with the Zabini's. Family friends or not, they were annoying.

"No, why?" he retorted.

"Oh, oh, um, no reason," she replied meekly, she turned to leave but was stopped abruptly when Darius caught he by the wrist spinning her back around to face him.

"Sacha, what is he planning?" he demanded.

She tried to pull free, but his grip was firm and unrelenting. Finally giving up, she just sighed and gave him an impatient look.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Nott. Now let me go!"

"Don't be flippant with me, Zabini. What is Jean planning?"

Sacha began to pull against Darius' hold again, "I really have no idea what you're talking about. Jean isn't up to anything, for once."

"Stop playing games with me, Sacha," he growled, tightening his grip

"Owww, Darius you're hurting me, "she cried, her eyes growing wet from the pain.

Just as suddenly as he had caught her, Darius threw her wrist away as though she was nothing but filth. Taking a step back, he stared at her, taking in her every action, reading her body for any signal. She was squirming under his gaze, she knew something, that much Darius knew. But it didn't have anything to do with her brother. Darius could see it now, the slight relaxation in her muscles, she was nervous but also relieved that he had gone staight to Jean. He slowly took a step forward, regaining the lost ground, trapping her against the stone wall.

"Okay, say I believe you, it's not Jean. Then who is it?" he hissed.

Smirking, he almost laughed at how easy it was for him to read her face. He had her now, she had just given everything away. The colour had quickly drained from her cheeks and her eyes started rapidly blinking. She had no where to go but through him. Placing the charm safely in his pocket, with his now free hands he trapped her further in a cage made by his arms.

"Darius please, just let me go. It's not what you think. I was only worried because he didn't come to the Great Hall all day, that's all," she whimpered.

"Lies!" Darius yelled, "tell me!"

Sacha stiffen, never had she heard Darius raise his voice before. It frighten her more then anything else he had done so far, slowly she edged her hand towards her pocket in which her wand rested, "Don't demand things from me," her voice grew more confident the closer to got to her wand, "when my brother finds out about this he'll..."

"He'll what?" Darius interrupted, smirking, "Hex me? Curse me? Kill me? I don't think so Sacha, I don't think your brother will do anything. He may be a tyrant but he is no idiot. He knows he would not win in a contest against me. I out smart, out wit, out match him in every way mentally and magically. What has he got left brute strength, even your brother wouldn't lower himself to such barbaric tactics. No, I doubt he will do anything, except give you a slap on the wrist for being so careless as to let yourself fall into this situation."

Sacha just stared at him wide-eyed, one more inch and she would be able to hex his tiny balls off herself. As he fingers brushed the edge of her pocket, a long spidery finger trailed down the back of her hand, "I wouldn't do that, we wouldn't want to hurt ourselves now would we," Darius drawled, pulling her hand away from her wand, "now, you are going to tell me who is inquiring after Scorpius and you are going to tell me before I loose even more of my patience."

Sacha gaped, how did he do it? How could he be so smooth, yet so menacing all at the same time? She had the sudden urge to kiss him, as well as slap him. He was this silent killer, if she had not been here she would never of believed that Darius was so capable at intimidating anyone with just words and body language, but here he was doing it to her. She was just about to answer, when Darius was violently yanked away from her.

"What's going on here?" someone shouted, "Sacha, tell me!"

Darius had been flung back a couple of steps, but he looked unruffled. He now had his wand in his hand and pointed at the last person he had expected to see defend Miss Zabini. The Weasley stood, legs apart, ready to charge, his arm flaying about at his sides. His face was as red as his hair, as his eyes flashed between Darius and Sacha. Something clicked in Darius' head, and everything made sense, well sort of. The little weasel thought something was going on between him and Sacha. Darius had to laugh a little, which brought him to the others attention.

"You have no idea how amusing this is, Sacha really a Weasley, could you stoop no lower. It's not that they are blood traitors, I don't even care about that. But do you really think you could be happy in rags?" Darius mocked.

Weasley took a step toward him, his fist clenched, but his path was blocked when Sacha stood in front of him, pushing him back.

"Fred, no!" she pleaded, "It's not worth it."

Darius let out another laugh, "Oh look now you protect him."

Sacha spun around on her heel, "Nott, please enough!"

Fred grabbed Sacha by the shoulders and turned her to face him, "What's going on? Tell me now!"

Sacha sighed, "Everyone wants to know something, Merlin. Darius wanted to know why I was asking about Scorpius' where abouts. He thought Jean was up to something. He was just protecting his friend. He was doing nothing wrong. Fred, it's in our nature to be suspicious, it was no harm."

Darius couldn't really believe what he was hearing. He may just yet gain some respect for the youngest Zabini. But right now, it was not the issue, "Yes, Sacha. But you never did tell me who you were gaining this information for. Pray tell?"

Sacha gave a quick look to Fred Weasley II, then turned back to her fellow Slytherin.

"Darius, I will tell you who asked me find out, but only if you promise to never speak of Fred and me to anyone," she gave him a withering stare, Darius just nodded not surprised by the compromise, Sacha smiled weakly her shoulders slumping down, she was safe for another day, "It was a girl. For some reason I can't remember her name, but she had some how found out about Fred and I and she blackmailed me, saying she would tell my family if I didn't help her keep tabs on Scorpius. She never said why? I didn't ask, I just didn't want my family to know."

Darius processed the information, then the questions started popping up in his head, "Do you know her? Have you seen her around the school?"

Sacha nodded, "Yes, she seemed familiar. It's strange, at the time I felt like I knew her, her name and everything. But now it's all kind of fuzzy. I do know that she's not in Slytherin, she was wearing red and gold."

"Gryffindor," Darius whispered, more to himself as he placed the pieces together. Who in Gryffindor did Sacha and Scorpius know? He was drawing a blank.

"Oh, there's something else," Sacha said suddenly, "Her name it was kind of like a plant or something, you know those parents who think it's pretty to have daughters with names like Lily and Daisy. I remember that because I remember thinking that it was rather generic."

"A plant, a flower," Darius thought out loud, "Names that are flowers; Lily, Jasmine, Willow, Pansy, Holly, Daisy, Iris, Violet, Ivy, Poppy.... Anything else?"

"Your forgot Rose, that's my cousin's name," Fred added, grinning.

Darius looked up, "Rose," Darius repeated the name, "Rose Weasley, hmm?"

"Ehh, yeah," Fred answered, his grin gone and his brow gathered, "But it can't be her."

"She's in Gryffindor yes?"

"Well yeah, but so is Lily Potter, and I'm pretty sure there is a Holly Thomas as well, so?" Fred's face looked concerned, as he watched the Slytherin male put everything together in his mind.

"Hmm, yes your right," lost in thought Darius, nodded and headed to the library.

"Hey!," Fred shouted after him, "where are you going?"

Darius just ignored him, he only had on thing on his mind now. Pulling the charm from his pocket he took in all the detail on the front, running his fingers over all the edges. He felt his finger tip brush over an indentation. Turning it over, there on the back scratched faintly into the charm, barely visible was one word.

Rose.


	4. Somewhere

_There is someone searching for me. Everywhere I turn there he is, asking questions, peering around corners, watching me. I don't understand why, I have been careful. So careful. It is as though I am back there again, back to where I must pretend I don't exist. Back to where I must hide from everyone, hide even from myself. There is no reason for him to be searching for me. Have forgotten something, have I let something slip. I can't think of it, is my mind slipping? Is that what it is? Is my mind just playing games? Creating drama? Scaring me?_

_Of all people, why did it have to be him? I have to do something that I know, anything to get him to look another way. Any way, but my way._

_He was never meant to be apart of this._

_Why won't he just leave things be? It doesn't concern him, but yet he keeps pushing, and pushing. It's suffocating me. I am floating and the sea and the waves are crashes around me, and I am going with the tide, but every so often he pushes me and I am at war with the tide, with the flow of the side and it rages with my body, dragging it further down to it's belly. It's black abyss. Will I ever be free? Will I ever be able to breath again?_

_He has questions, I understand his need for answers, but what makes him believe I have them? Because I don't, I never did, they always belongs to someone else. Never me. I have questions too, yet there is no one who holds my answers, after everything how is that fair?_

_I have to do something..._

_I have to do something..._

_I have to do something..._

_But what?_

_I haven't seen him in two days and I can feel my body start to yearn for him. He is my air, he is my oxygen, he is my breath. I am drowning in my sea and for once, in so long, he is not saving me, he is not pulling my out. He is doing nothing; he is letting me drown. And for what?_

_Have I ruined everything? I thought I was content with my silent torment, but now I don't even have that, because I couldn't restrain myself, I couldn't let him go. I couldn't let time pass._

_Have I condemned myself? Am I to suffer alone now? Are we only given a certain amount of time with those we love, and if so have I used all mine up? Did I abuse it? I take him for granted?_

_All these questions, and yet no answers. Let him search for me, let him scour heaven, hell and earth for me, let him find me._

_For he will find nothing._

_**- - - N . E . S - - -  
**_

**A PINPRICK** of light broke through the darkness, and then webs of golden string shot out, sparkling with tiny reflections. They never creased; they never broke, they were never ending. It was a continuous stream of gold, different shades rippling down the length of the light. It illuminated nothing, but it was the only light in the black chasm.

Her hands tentatively reached out, she did not want to break the strands of light, but she seeked their warmth she believed they would posses. But there was nothing. She closed her eyes and felt a loss. There was no feeling, no sign, no indication of their existence. They were there; she believed that, for she could see them. And if she could see them, then they must be there. But she could not touch them and she could not feel them. In her mind she reasoned they were ghosts.

She felt at peace with this knowledge, that she was not truly alone, like the golden beams, she too was ghost. Only ever seen by the world, but touched and never felt. She was an illusion played on the minds of all who thought to have seen a girl, but once they looked back she was always gone.

She neither felt a sense bitterness nor animosity for her state of being. It had become apart of her; apart of who she was now. Sometimes, when she tried hard enough she forgot about a time when she knew any better.

But here, swallowed so completely in darkness, so was left with nothing but her thoughts. But none of it mattered. The beams of light did not judge her, they did not question her, the y were simply there sharing the same moment of time with her, sharing this memory.

She kept running her hands through the sparkling light, her eyes never wavering. She would keep them here; keep them real. All she had to do was see them. To see her hand pass through, and know that just because there was no proof then what she believed didn't make them any less real.

As her hand continued to pass between them, she felt the air inside of the light grow heavy. Slowly they came together, thousands of strings started intertwining round her hand, wrapping around others, criss-crossing. To her eyes, the beams were dancing a form of intricate chorography to which only they knew. They movement were smooth and delicate as though they had performed the show time and time again. They glided down into different placements all waiting for the next stage of the recital to begin. Until finally it formed an elaborate weave; a golden chain.

When she dared reach out again to pass her hand through them once more, she couldn't. The soft chain bent against her skin, the cold steel links grinding together to mould around her hand. Just like everything, the golden strings had changed. They moved forward and she was still stuck. Stuck as what she had been for so long.

A soft whisper filled her ears, but she couldn't make anything out. Straining, she tried to move her feet, tried to move forward, but nothing happened. She didn't move, she couldn't. Her muscles were frozen in place, she almost gave in, but then her eyes caught the chain. Reaching out, she gently placed both her hands onto the interconnecting links and pulled. There was a shift and then the whisper grew louder. Spurred on, she pulled again and again, the whisper growing louder once more.

She watched as she drew the chain through her fingers, the pinprick of light silhouette into a distant figure. The whispers resonating from its center. It wasn't until the figure was half the distance away, that she realized that she wasn't moving at all. She was still stuck in the same spot she had always been in. As she pulled, all she did was move the far-off figure closer.

Her hands almost dropped the chain, but as her gripped loosened the chain traveled through her fingers on it's own, pulling itself closer to her. Closing her eyes, she pushed everything out but the feel of the cold steel slithering beneath her fingertips. It felt alive; it was something with a purpose, something with an end.

She felt the chain stop and rest heavily in her hands; her ears were once again filled with soft whispers. It was a girl, she was crying. She didn't dare open her eyes. She could feel the pain in the girl's voice, as though it was a harsh wind against her skin.

It was a hollow weep, a defeated whimper. The more she tried to ignore the girl, the louder her cried became. The louder her whispers could be heard. The girl kept repeating the same words over and over. Her sentences were jutted and every syllable sounded the same as the one before. There was no change, not in her tone, not in her pitch. It simply grew louder. The words felt solid; they coiled around her body, entwining themselves around her limbs, suffocating her until at last she opened her eyes.

The girl's face was hidden in an unnatural shadow, her hair hung down limply on the sides of her face. She sat on her knees, her hands rhythmically clenching to their own beat. It appeared as though she was sitting on a golden rock, its surface polished and reflective.

Looking at the girl, she noticed her posture never changed, her hair never wavered. She was frozen, except for her lips. They continuously sung the same words through out the dark void.

" It's all a dream..."

" It's all a dream..."

" It's all a dream..."

As she watched the never-ending chorus, shivers swam down her arms, the hairs standing on end. Her eyes seemed transfixed on the girl; she thought her eyes should be dry, for she did not even blink. It was then that she realized that as the girl cried she was crying along with her.

She only tore her eyes away, when the forgotten weight in her hands began to move yet again. She couldn't' bare to be closer to this phantom, the closer the girl got, the more she could see. The alignment of her face, the curve of her lips, the shade of her eyes. Everything. It was a mirror she had never wished to look in. It was a memory she had never wished to remember.

Fighting the pull of the chain, she dropped her hands. But the chained, suspended in the air, continued to course forward. Drawing the nightmare closer and closer, until it was right before her. It was only then that she finally saw the golden rock for what it really was. A colossal pocket watch, the gold chain looped through the eye at the top, in front of the kneeling girl.

With the clock so close, she could now see the face, the roman numerals staring back at her, a circle the same size as her palm revealing it's cogs and wheels churning around. With it so close, she could now the clocks hands shift and tick by. She could now she with every repeat of the girl's cry the hands rewind and start again.

The hour hand sat steady on the nine, and the minute hand slowly moving around from five to ten.

" It's all a dream..."

And then more slowly then before, it crept back up the clock face to land on the five once more. Her hands shaking, she blinked, only to miss the hand jolt and start back towards the ten.

She felt her knees grow weak, but they would not let her fall, still she was stuck just as she always had been. When the realization that she could not escape, that she could not hide from the blatant truth flaring before her, she crumbled. Her entire body shook with tears she had not let fall until now. Her throat constricted upon itself and her eyes stung. Her chest seemed to crack open, and every emotion; every feeling she had buried deep inside was shoveled out, leaving her bare and baron. She had nothing left, but the truth and it was too much.

It coursed through her like venom, sucking her dry of everything she had tried so hard to hold on to. Everything that made her take one breathe after another. Everything that made her live.

She never thought the emptiness would end, but then she just felt nothing. She felt like a shell, a vessel full of vast air. She had no substance, no purpose, no will. She just was.

With a jerk, she brought her hands to her face, thrashing them about on her skull.

"It's all a dream..." she screamed, "It's all a dream..."

"Wake up!"

***

Suddenly, she was blinded by morning light, as her eyes snapped open. Looking around, she could feel every object, every item she owned get processed with her brain; she could feel her mind catalogue everything. But she didn't need this to know, the moment she opened her eyes she knew. Something was wrong. This was all wrong. The walls were wrong.

She kept repeating it over and over, 'the walls were wrong, the walls were wrong, the walls were wrong'. But how, she hadn't changed them, she would never change them. But who would? Who would know what they meant, what they represented? No one.

No one, but him.

Wrenching the sheets back, she pulled a sweater over her head, never registering where she grabbed it from. Throwing a pair of shoes on, she ran from the room, she ran a path she had worn into the stone. She had walked this path she often, she knew every turn and every corner she could walk it blindfolded.

Take the steps down to the dungeons two at a time, she came to stop before the one door she never thought she would ever be in front of again. She had to make sure; she had to be certain before she went barging in there. What if she was wrong, what if her mind was playing more of their games?

But what if they weren't?

Before she could stop herself, her hand was only the handle. There was nothing she could do now but wait, wait and see if she was right, all she could do was wait and see if everything had gone horribly wrong.

She didn't know if she should cry out of happiness or sadness, when the door shifted forward allowing her to enter a room she had seen thousands of times but had not stepped foot in, in over a month.

Heaving a deep breath, she took one foot and placed it in front of the other. Could she do this to herself, if this was all just some trick, could she really do this? Taking another step, she was resolved to find out one way or another.

She was not prepared for what she saw, just like the room; it was a sight that had been burned into her memory. There he sat, his feet slung over the arm of high backed desk chair, the leather studs framing his face, as he bent over a book, his eyes drinking in every word.

It was then that her knees finally feel, she landed with a thud, drawing the boy's attention. It was then that the real tears feel, when he looked upon her with recognition and concern. He was back. He was back and she didn't care if it was some game, if it was all just some kind of trick, for this moment, for right now she had him back.

Placing the book on the desk, he got to his feet and made the short trip to her, bending down he pulled her up and into his arms. The smell of him, the feel of him overloaded every part of her. He seeped within her soul and she felt whole for the first time in such long time. She gathered him closer, pulling and scratching at his clothes, anything to bring him as near as possible. She couldn't stop herself, she feel into him crying with everything she had thought she had lost. It didn't matter that she was once again trapped, that she was lost once more. She would be lost with him and together they would simply remember and it was fine. She was happy and content to just remember, if she could remember with him.

She felt him pull back and she struggled against him, she wasn't ready to let go, not yet. Just not yet. She felt his hands gently rub patterns down her back, warming away the chill that had crept into her bones over the past five weeks. Five weeks, it seemed so much longer. With him finally in her arms again it felt like years.

"Hey, what's going on?" he soothed into her hair, "hmmm, what's got you so upset?"

She just shook her head; it didn't matter. Right now nothing matter to her. She was finally back where she felt she could be herself. It felt strange to think that, but it was true, she had always believed that they had spent their lives hiding, but they hadn't, together they had found themselves. And now she had found him again.

" Come on, tell me what's wrong," he cooed.

"Nothing, it was all just a dream, I'm fine. It was all just a dream..." she replied.

"A dream made you this upset?" he brushed a stray hair aside, as he gently placed a kiss on her forehead, "But my Rose, how do you know that _this_ is not the dream?"

Finally pulling back, she faced him, his stormy eyes staring right to the core of her; the intensity within them was electric. What was he saying? It made no sense.

"Scorpius, I don't understand... I don't know..."

He placed a soft finger to her lips, silencing her, "Shhh, oh my Rose, I have missed you," he pulled her into his arms once more, squeezing her tenderly, "but my dear, dear Rose it's time to wake up."

_**- - - N . E . S - - -  
**_

**A SCREAM **cut through the night, piercing the heaven's sleep. It was a scream that no one could find, it came from nowhere and everywhere. It was a scream filled with hidden pain and torment. It was a scream that was never meant to be heard, but it had gotten free, it had escaped it's hard iron clad cage and wrenched it's way to the surface and no amount of effort would could put it back. It had ripped its way through what every creature that had kept it captive and left nothing but a hole.


End file.
